Morning
by Clio S.S
Summary: What it means to be strong, and why other people matter in that. A kind of sequel to "Sun".


_I don't know even half of your pain  
The weakened words stay in the air  
But one morning, I know that  
You will wake up to notice  
You've survived and you will do._

_-_ Juha Tapio, "Kelpaat kelle vaan"

---

The bird were chirping outside the window and Kira felt like he heard them for the first time since very long.

He woke up aware that the day had dawned long ago. His past self would have fallen in the depths of remorse right away. His recent self would have never let that happen.

He smiled and pulled the cover up. He was smiling with his eyes shut. Two tears flew out from behind his eyelids and rolled down through his temples towards the pillow.

It felt so good to cry again. It felt so good to feel again.

To live.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the air that smelled of the lemon tree. Regardless the season, it was the smell that prevailed in the Third Division. Now it was mixing with a faint fragrance of the flowers. Dandelion, yarrow, buttercup - he knew them all. Or perhaps he just believed he could smell them? Perhaps he had seen them on the yard and now he imagined smelling them? Whichever it was, the spring was in its height. The days were warm, the evenings were long. The nature started another life-cycle.

For the first time since very long Izuru Kira, the Vice-Captain of the Third Division, felt that he was strong enough to live.

He didn't know for how long his world had been occupied by the night. Last days, weeks, and months had merged into one another, time had lost its meaning. Perhaps it had even stopped - like everything around him had. Somewhere, sometime, winter passed, and then early spring, too - he hadn't noticed. Now he was listening to the singing of the spring birds, full of simple and such a perfect joy, and he felt that he could finally call things by their proper name.

The tears flowing down his face were the proof.

Some thing he could remember better than others. He remembered Captain Hitsugaya's words who, after their talk, ordered the Fourth Division to watch him. He hadn't understood then. He hadn't even thought of it. Now he knew what Captain Hitsugaya had meant.

Suffering can have so many levels.

It can be a pain you want to escape from, even at the cost of annihilation.

It can be a despair you don't feel, because you are unable to feel any more.

It can be a strength that along with hope pushes you forward.

Izuru Kira went through all the tree stages and now, for the first time in his life, he felt strong.

He still shivered because of the memories. He still couldn't recall the incidents of the last battle without a tremble. He still kept regretting that fate had mocked of him and his dreams. And he still had to wipe away the tears that filled his eyes on any occasion.

He didn't mind.

He was alive.

He had needed the months to realize he wanted to live. Tōshirō Hitsugaya's words made him understand the others must have seen more than he himself. He hadn't known anything anymore. In one moment, perhaps as soon as in Karakura, he had violated his own mind and had filled it with the total emptiness. He must have believed the void would be better than the pain. Only now he understood there is no life in the void. Perhaps that was what he had longed for, then...

When in the Fourth Division he had just... been. They had come and gone - his friends, companions, comrades. And medics. He hadn't seen them. They had become one. He couldn't distinguish their faces and voices. He had talked with them completely distracted. He hadn't been interested in them in the slightest.

They had put him into bed and had forbidden him any work - he hadn't really protested. It had been all the same to him. They had left him alone, so he had been alone. Had they brought him food, he had eaten. Had they forgotten, he hadn't eaten. It had made no difference.

He had spent his days looking into the white ceiling, or the opposite wall, or the bright sky outside the window, behind the flowers everyday changed. During the nights he had tried to sleep, but had he managed to fall asleep, he had soon waken up from the nightmares he couldn't remember. He had waken up with his face wet from crying and he had been almost surprised.

One day he had dropped the mug and when trying to clear the pieces up, he had cut his hand. He hadn't felf any pain, he had been only staring at red blood in astonishment and wondering where something so vital could possibly come from.

He had been to spend a week in the Fourth Division, yet he hadn't left his room for a month, and he would have stayed in it...

He rolled over to his side and pulled his knees up. The gentle smile was still stretching his lips.

_"Apple tree sent out first leaves, Vice-Captain Kira."_

_"Eleventh Division rebelled against the porridge today, Vice-Captain Kira."_

_"Abarai-san was appointed a Captain of the Fifth Division, Vice-Captain Kira."_

In his head, he tried to differentiate the people who had come to see him in the Fourth Division. Hinamori visited him most often. Vice-Captain Matsumoto and Captain Hitsugaya had been regular guests. Abarai paid him some visits. Ayasegawa hadn't forgotten him either, and due to his skills in kidō he had taken over Kira's work with patients.

He didn't remember what they had talked about - he assumed that about the past and the future of Soul Society and Seireitei.

_"Pair of the squirrels got settled on the cherry tree, just behind your window, Vice-Captain Kira."_

He could remember Hanatarō Yamada's voice like he heard it only yesterday.

Hanatarō Yamada, Seventh Seat in the Fourth Division, had spent with him the most time. He had come every day and had asked his health. He had been bringing the food, changing the bedclothes and the flowers in the vase. He had been helping him with everyday toilet and combing his hair. Then, in the right time, he had been taking him - gently and resolutely - for a walk among fruit trees covered with buds and intensely green nettles.

And he had been talking.

He had filled dead silence and void with life.

He had told about the azure of the sky and the whiteness of the clouds, even though Kira could see them himself had he raised his head. About the lightest shade of pink of the plum flowers and the rainbow-hue wings of the butterflies. About the scent of the spring grass and the herbal garden. About the rush of the stream that crossed the grounds of the Fourth Division in the southern part. About the warm wind, the herald of the summer.

He had talked about the funny events in the Fourth Division.

One day he had found a kitty in the bushes and had insisted on taking it in the safe place, regardless his own allergy that straight away had caused him runny nose and watery eyes. He had told about his allergy, too.

He hadn't asked about anything.

Kira knew he hadn't been able to say anything then.

Sometimes Hanatarō had regarded him with a look that had clearly indicated he had wanted to ask - not of curiosity, but of concern. He had known - he was a medic, after all - how to cure the wounds of the soul. Kira wondered whether Hanatarō could suffer from the remorse for not acting as ethically as he should - but regardless the answer, Kira was truly grateful to him for that.

That one matter... He had have to copy with it alone - even though the support of the close people was undoubtedly invaluable. He hadn't understood it then.

Two equally important memories came to Kira now, as he was lying in his bed, waiting in peace for a good moment to start the day. One of them was a memory of another nightmare he had waken up from, drenched with sweat. The darkness of the room and the distant moon outside the window hadn't calmed his fear, cause of which he hadn't known. Then he had felt a gentle hand brushing aside his sweaty hair and stroking his head in a soothing way. For a moment, he had thought it had been someone else's hand... and he might even call someone else's name... he didn't remember... Then he had realized it had been impossible - and his mind had started to run away from this very thought. He had been in panic, his heart had beaten fast again and he had been out of breath. Before he had started to scream, he had been firmly embraced and he had been secure in those arms, when the voice had said softly, "It's all-right, I'm here". He had fallen asleep again, because the thought that someone had been watching over his sleep had worked wonders.

The other memory referred to the time when he had finally left the Fourth Division. He had been strong enough to take up his duties as the Vice-Captain of the Third Division. He had felt tough enough to survive alone. Unusually brave Hanatarō Yamada had embraced him at parting and... "Please, take care of yourself, Vice-Captain Kira," he had said and then had disappeared quickly in the main building, while Kira had been standing on the courtyard, completely lost and wondering which allergy made Seventh Seat Yamada's eyes water this time.

Now, when he recalled that moment, he felt like he had his past self before him. At the same moment, he knew he would never meet someone so selfless, bright and radiating his own light. Once he would have found it inconsistent. Now he felt only respect. And affection.

Now he could believe he had been once seen the same way.

On this spring morning, lying on his bed, he felt he missed Hanatarō Yamada. Once he would have just followed his instincts, perhaps. Now he could observe his feelings and analyse them. He knew for sure he didn't need Hanatarō as a substitute. He knew he didn't seek for someone to be near. It wasn't that after he lost an important person he had to find another.

It wouldn't be right, in case of such a wonderful individuality as Hanatarō Yamada.

And no-one could replace Gin Ichimaru.

Kira curled up and shut his eyes tight. Another floods of tears made little of it and easily forced their way between the eyelashes, and then made their way down towards the pillow. He was the last to curse this weakness. It was natural, it was needed. And... it felt so good to cry again.

He still felt pain, despair and sorrow. He didn't expect one day he would stop feeling. If he didn't feel, he would be worthless - or he wouldn't be at all, like he hadn't been for the last months. But he knew that pain tends to ease with time, sorrow tends to be dispelled, and despair tends to vanish.

He reached behind the head and grasped the tiny book - last gift of Gin Ichimaru who had always pushed him towards the light and life. Gin Ichimaru died so that he - Izuru Kira - could live.

He wasn't allowed to disregard that gift. He hadn't been strong enough, though, to look into future that lacked the hope, and to face it alone.

Gin Ichimaru had strengthened him one more time.

And Kira decided it wouldn't be end of their story yet.

He opened his eyes and got up, wiping away the last tears. Light of the morning, full of life, was getting inside through the window, the warm spot was moving towards his bed to brush its edge any moment. The sky outside was blue, bees and bumblebees were bustling about against it.

_Today is a good day to begin a life,_ Kira thought, placing his hands on the window frame.

He was to meet his own subordinates, then he had to visit Captain Unohana in the Fourth Division.

But the breakfast came first. Yamada-san ordered him to take care of himself.

He smiled.

From now on, in the matters of health, he was going to obey his prospective Vice-Captain's opinion.


End file.
